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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27578113">Fallen Angel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_world_of_beautiful_monsters/pseuds/This_world_of_beautiful_monsters'>This_world_of_beautiful_monsters</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (IDW Comics), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Angel and Casey are more morally compromised, Angst with a Happy Ending, Branding, Brooklyn and Hun are more morally dead, Casey and Raph are both seventeen or thereabouts, Crying, Degradation, Hun is a human shit stain, Hun never stopped being a Purple Dragon, IDW Divergent, M/M, Racist Sexist and Homophobic Language, Raph is a beautiful complex character and I torture him, Reincarnation, So. Much. Cursing, Torture, here there be monsters, hurt!Raph</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:56:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,425</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27578113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_world_of_beautiful_monsters/pseuds/This_world_of_beautiful_monsters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When his father's men drag home an impossible creature, Casey Jones' world is turned upside down.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Casey Jones/Raphael (TMNT)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Lamb To The Slaughter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which the Purple Dragons acquire a new resource, Casey Jones makes a new acquaintance, a lost turtle finds a new home, and the real problem is that all of these things happen at once.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Casey was hosing down the bloody warehouse floor when they dragged the monster in on a leash. He splashed cold water on himself and barely noticed as he watched it stagger through the warehouse door, chains clanking, letting out incoherent screams behind his muzzle.</p><p>Of course he'd heard--everyone at heard--about the "freak" who had smacked up Rahzar and Link when they tried to roll him. They'd managed to put together some half-hearted posse to track it down; Casey had assumed they were talking about some regular guy dressed in green, maybe with bad acne or tattoos or something.</p><p>But even with the shredded hoodie it was wearing, Casey could see that the thing they'd brought back with them wasn't remotely human.</p><p>It was <em>green</em>, actually green, with a turtle-like face and some kind of <em>shell</em> protruding from its back. Its small body was packed with muscle; its bare feet were way too large and had way too few toes. Wild blue eyes stared around the room, burning hot enough to singe Casey's skin.</p><p>The creature had put up a fight: all the guys holding it looked fairly banged up. They'd given as good as they'd gotten, though, if not worse. Even under all the rags and grime, Casey could see the bruises and blood dotting the creature's skin. It lurched in an awkward shuffle as it walked, kept off balance by the chains linking its feet, the shackles holding its hands behind his back, and the collar around its throat.</p><p>"The fuck is that?" Hun called as he descended from the catwalk to the ground floor. Casey flinched, the way he sometimes did when he heard his father speak unexpectedly.</p><p>"Slimy little bastard we was tellin' you about, boss," said Rahzar, trying to drag the turtle further into the light. It resisted, digging its heels into the concrete, so one of the other guys gave it a vicious tap on the arm with a cattle prod. The creature stumbled forward, gasping in pain.</p><p>"Jesus <em>fuck,"</em> Hun said, looking it up and down. "Where the hell did it come from?"</p><p>Malo shrugged. "No idea. We found it sleepin' rough on the streets."</p><p>"And you decided to bring it back with ya, give it a nice warm home," Hun said. "How nice." He ripped off the last of the hoodie; Casey thought he saw the creature flinch as the lights hit its bare skin.</p><p>Hun frowned. "The fuck is going on there?" He gestured to the smooth, pale skin between its bare legs.</p><p>"We think it's got its dick tucked up in there somewhere," Rahzar explained. "It squeals when you hit it there. Like, louder than other places." He gave the turtle a brutal kick to demonstrate, sending it crashing to its knees with a squawk.</p><p>"Hmmm," Hun mused. He grabbed the creature by the shoulders and hauled it to its feet, ripping off the muzzle. "You got a name, big fella?"</p><p>"Fuck you, old man," the turtle spat.</p><p>Casey dropped the hose then, because it was a <em>he,</em> it could <em>talk,</em> it had a Brooklyn accent and a deep male growl and he could <em>understand</em> it, so....so it was a <em>person</em>. His father's men had brought home a person in chains, and his father didn't seem that torn up about it.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>Hun punched the creature--the person--across the face once, twice, three times. Casey winced, knowing all too well what it was like to be on the receiving end of those blows. His father grabbed the turtle by the jaw, fingers digging deep into the bruised flesh. "Now, listen here," he growled. "That's no way to speak to one's elders."</p><p>The turtle headbutted Hun in the nose, breaking it with a sickening <em>crunch.</em> "SHIT!" Hun screamed, lurching backward. Rahzar lunged, swinging a prod at the turtle's head, and he <em>ducked</em> out of the way. And before Casey could even process, before he could even get over the <em>holy shit someone hit Dad</em> part of the scene, that turtle fucking <em>backflipped</em> into the air, chains jingling as it soared and kicking Rahzar in the head as it went.</p><p>He landed with a grunt, off balance, and toppled backward, but as Malo lunged the creature drew up his bound legs and slammed into him from the ground before launching back upright. It dashed towards the still open door, somehow managing to move ridiculously fast despite the tiny, clanking steps it had to take.</p><p>"YOU LIDDLE CUNT!" Hun screamed, lurching to his feet as blood gushed down his chest. "GEDDIM!" The turtle dashed by Casey, close enough for him to stick out his leg and trip...</p><p>Then their eyes locked, blue into brown, and Casey could see the turtle's lips move (he didn't even have lips, but Casey could see them move) as he whispered <em>please.</em></p><p>Casey's legs stopped working and all he could do was watch while the turtle hurtled for freedom, leash jangling just out of the Dragons' reach, the door drawing closer, closer...</p><p>Then Chun stepped out of the shadows, where'd he'd apparently been watching everything from behind the safety of a cigarette, and hit the turtle over the head with a baseball bat. He collapsed with a cry of pain and then the others were on him. He thrashed and screamed as they hit him with three cattle prods at once, blood and spittle flying from his mouth.</p><p>"Wait!" Hun yelled as he lurched over, one hand over his face as he pulled his nose back into place with a <em>crack.</em> "Wait, you assholes, don't <em>kill</em> it!" His face was still covered with blood, but it had switched from blazing rage to a bright smile. And Casey, who had seen enough of his father's smiles for one lifetime, much preferred the anger.</p><p>Hun pulled the limp, quivering turtle upright and slammed it against the wall. "Did you see those moves it was pulling?" he shouted to the others. "Motherfucker looks like the Hulk, but it fights like Black Widow." He thrust a knee up between the turtle's legs, drawing a soft whimper. "We break it down, train it a little, we could have a fucking <em>cash cow</em> on our hands."</p><p>He grabbed the turtle's leash and yanked him away from the wall, dragging him through the warehouse. "Get that shock collar we used for that crazy Alsatian," he barked. "We'll put in that big cage in the back." His head whipped around suddenly, pinning Casey in place, the smile still fixed and gleaming. "Case, come with me."</p><p>"<em>Oooh,</em> some-one's in <em>trouble,"</em> Chun crooned, like they were in fucking elementary school, and Casey would have flipped him off if his hands weren't shaking. He turned off the hose and made his way to his father's side, fists clenched.</p><p>Hun was talking to the creature, jerking the scruff of his neck so that he shook like a rag doll. "You're gonna be the best little bruiser we eva had, aint'cha?" he snarled. His eyes brightened, and he raised his voice. "Hey, that's what we'll call it! Bruiser!"</p><p>He grabbed the newly christened Bruiser by the jaw again, his other hand holding the back of his head in a firm grip. "Ain't that nice of us? You've only been here five minutes and we've already welcomed you into our hearts, given you a name all your own."</p><p>Bruiser blinked, eyes refocusing, and spat in his face. Hun smirked and shifted his grip to the turtle's throat, hoisting him off the ground. "See, that spark a'yours, I don't want to smother it. That's what gonna make me money," he said. Bruiser gasped and choked, feet dangling.</p><p>"But you gotta learn respect to your new daddy," Hun told him. "So no food, no water, not 'til you've won a bout for us." He dropped Bruiser and the turtle fell to his knees, chest heaving. He was so busy to regain his air that he barely seemed to notice when Hun took the shock collar from Rahzar and tugged off Bruiser's old one so he could fix it in place. He attached the chain to the new collar and yanked Bruiser to his feet.</p><p>Hun jerked his head at Casey and they made their way out of the main room, past the kennels were fighting dogs snarled and bit, past the room where human competitors got ready for fights, to a grim iron cage whose originally purpose Casey had forgotten. Hun tossed a bucket in the corner and dragged Bruiser inside, attaching his chain to a bolt on the floor.</p><p>"Right." He held up a small device and pressed a button, causing Bruiser to collapse to the ground with a piercing scream as electricity rocked his body. Casey winced at the sight.</p><p>"You get nasty, or try to run away again, you ride the lightning," Hun explained. "This thing's rigged to take down anything that gets out the door without Daddy's permission. Understand?" Bruiser threw up, which Hun seemed to take as affirmation. "Good boy."</p><p>He knelt, tugging off the arm and leg shackles, revealed where they'd rubbed green skin red. "I'm taken' these off, cause I'm nice and I don't want you to piss all over yourself. I hope you won't abuse my generosity."</p><p>He marched out of the cage, locking the door behind him before turning to his son. Casey swallowed, back against the wall. He'd screwed up again, and his father always took care of immediate business before administering--</p><p>The first blow slammed into his stomach, the second caught him in the chest as he lurched forward. Casey fisted his hands in his pants, resisting the urge to fight back--he'd only make things worse. Behind Hun, he could see Bruiser watching them through the bars of the cage, and for some reason shame boiled up in his stomach at the sight.</p><p>His father punched him three more times before finally allowing Casey to sag against the wall, panting. "You let it run," Hun said, voice deadly calm. "You almost let my money get away from me and Chun--fucking <em>Chun--</em>had to step up 'cause you blew it."</p><p>Casey stared fixedly at his feet. "I know, Dad. I'm sorry."</p><p>His father punched him again, driving out the air with a painful <em>oof.</em> "'Sorry?' Would sorry'a gotten that little freak back if he made it out the door? Would <em>sorry</em> 'ave stopped me from lookin' like a chump in front of everyone, cause of <em>you?</em>" Another punch to the face, and Casey's world flickered black at the edges, but he didn't fall. He'd taken so much worse than this.</p><p>Hun leaned over him, propping his hands on either side of Casey's head, his breath foul and hot. "I got news for ya, buddy. That green bitch is your problem, now. You'll feed it when it gets to eat, clean it--don't get water on the collar, you'll probably fry its brains out--you'll rub it dry if it gets the shits and keep its booboos from getting infected. Maybe that'll teach you a little responsibility, how to assert your dominance with <em>something."</em></p><p>He marched Casey over to the cage and banged on the bars, even though Bruiser was already looking at them from where he squatted at the far wall, rubbing the life back into his tender limbs. "Look alive, freakboy," Hun said. He ruffled Casey's hair. "This here's gonna be your keeper when I ain't around, Bruiser. We say jump, you say how high. We say suck, you say how deep. Got that?"</p><p>Bruiser didn't respond. Hun held up his button again, the threat obvious. "Got it?"</p><p>"Yeah," muttered Bruiser, looking down at his feet, and that voice--that reminder of his humanity--made Casey's stomach twist. "I got it."</p><p>"Good boy." Hun said, patting Casey on the back, face warm as if the beating from twenty seconds ago had never happened. "Hose it down, he fucking stinks." He turned and swaggered off, calling over his shoulder, "You boys play nice now, you hear?"</p><p>Then he was gone, and Casey was left alone with the turtle.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Faking Cannibalism And Influencing People</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bruiser adjusts to his new surroundings with his usual demeanor: a biting wit and touch of paranoia.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stupid. Stupid. <em>Stupid.</em> He'd been so fucking stupid, letting those bastards jump him. Why the hell hadn't he found a safer place to bed down for the night? Why hadn't he moved faster dodging those goddamn cattle prods?</p><p>Now everything hurt, and they'd stuck a <em>shock collar</em> on him that still smelled of dog, and that weird kid with the black hair was standing outside his cage, studying him.</p><p>"So, uh...I guess I'll clean you up then," the boy muttered. The turtle--Bruiser, he supposed that it was as good a name as any even if he was going to kill the man who'd given it to him--tensed. He watched the boy gather up a hose, pressing his shell against the back bars as he waited for the cold water to slam into his tender skin. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as bad if he dodged around while Casey worked?</p><p>But instead, the kid carefully unlocked the cage door and dragged in a large, dingy white tub. He turned on the hose and dropping inside, filling with the space with the soft drum of water on plastic. The boy stood in the doorway, shuffling his feet. "This might, um, take a minute."</p><p>Bruiser blinked, not sure why he was being offered a bath, not sure if the kid would expect some kind of "reward" for this unexpected kindness. There'd been people on that street like that, freaks attracted to bigger freaks.</p><p>Bruiser leaned against the bars, looking the kid up and down. He could probably bring him down if he rushed him, but if the big blond shithead was telling the truth about how the collar worked--and Bruiser suspected he was--it would be an exercise in futility. No doubt that fuckwad would give him a worse punishment, too, for messing around with his new "keeper."</p><p>"So," said the human. "M'name's Casey." His hand twitched at his side, as if he wanted to stick it out.</p><p>Bruiser cocked his head, not sure how to react. The boy blushed and fidgeted his hands, shifting from foot.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he said quietly, jerking his head at the cage. <em>Sorry? What the fuck. </em>"My da--Hun, he...I know that was terrible, but he really won't hurt you again. Not if you're good." His eyes shifted around as he said the last part, looking like all the liars in all the movies in every theater Bruiser had ever broken into.</p><p>Bruiser didn't really believe him about the no-hurting part, but <em>dad</em>...that was interesting. And apparently his new "owner" called himself <em>Hun.</em> God, what a stupid name. They all had such stupid names.</p><p>Although he supposed <em>Casey</em> wasn't too moronic a designation, all things considered.</p><p>The boy had brought in a mop with the tub and tried to clean up the puke as best he could in the confined space, shooting Bruiser a look every once in a while. He wondered if he was supposed to say thanks for not having to sleep with his own vomit.</p><p>Eventually, Casey glanced into the tub and announced, "I think it's ready." He turned off the hose and hauled it out of the cage, along with the mop. The concrete floor was still stained, but at least at it didn't smell quite so bad. That stuff from the dumpster had been foul enough going down the first time.</p><p>Bruiser approached the tub cautiously, trying to figure out the last time he'd had a bath--<em>if</em> he'd ever had one. Usually he just splashed himself off after sneaking into a public restroom every once in a while. He probably did smell ripe, not that he'd every admit it in a million years.</p><p>He carefully lowered himself into the tub, hissing as the water made contact with his wounds. Still, it was surprising lukewarm, and he wondered if Casey had made a deliberate effort to raise the hose's temperature.</p><p>"Here." The human passed him a washcloth. Bruiser started gently dabbing himself, trying to get dirt off the parts that hurt the least, avoiding the collar just in case Hun hadn't been wrong about the electrocution thing. Then he stilled mid motion, because something was...</p><p>"...Wrong," he muttered. He spoke quietly, but apparently not quietly enough. Casey glanced at him. "What?"</p><p>"Nothin'," Bruiser muttered, shaking himself as he got back to work.</p><p>But it <em>wasn't</em> nothing. He wasn't sure how, but he <em>knew</em> that he wasn't supposed to be alone in the tub. There were supposed to be others there, warm bodies pressing in around him. That was the...the <em>proper</em> way. Stupid, of course, he wasn't sure if he'd ever <em>been</em> small enough to fit in a bathtub with someone else, but...</p><p>This happened sometimes: weird thoughts, urges, flashes he didn't understand. Sometimes, they were helpful, like the backflip that he still wasn't sure how he'd pulled off. Sometimes, they were just plain weird, like the urge to bow to a crazy older guy yelling at him in an alley.</p><p>Resisting them was pretty easy, and he'd learned to except their presence over the...well, however long he'd been alive, he wasn't one hundred percent sure. Considering the fucked-up body he'd been stuck in, it only made sense to have a fucked-up brain, too.</p><p>He was interrupted from his musings when he realized that Casey was staring at him, something unreadable in his eyes. Bruiser's blood went cold. "The fuck you looking at?" he snarled, clenching his fists so the human wouldn't see him them shake.</p><p>Casey was covered in ropey muscles, but Bruiser could--maybe--take him if <em>he</em> was the one to attack first. Unless the human went to get a cattle prod. Unless the human got other humans to help. Unless the human wanted to use every means at his disposal to make Bruiser show respect to his new "keeper."</p><p>Unless.</p><p>But Casey just started, yelping "Sorry!" He dug his fingers into his belt loops. "I'll, um, go get you a blanket and towel. Yeah." He hurried out of the cage, locking it behind him, and darted away.</p><p>Bruiser stared after him for a few seconds, then shrugged and returned to his bath. Maybe the kid was just brain damaged from Hun smacking him around like that. Or high.</p><p>The water was red and brown by the time Bruiser climbed out, shivering in the cold air. He was grateful when Casey came back and passed him a towel, even if it did smell of dog. Casey shook a few more hairs out of a tired-looking blue blanket and handed it in, too.</p><p>Bruiser blinked at the color. <em>Blue.</em> That had always felt strange to him. Not like red, he knew that he liked red, and it was normal to have a favorite color. He'd didn't actually like blue, but sometimes when he saw it he'd get a twinge of...familiarity, like he'd seen it somewhere, someplace important. Purple and orange too, although he encountered them less often.</p><p><em>Maybe I escaped from a looney bin before I woke up in that alley,</em> he thought morosely, not for the first time.</p><p>Casey awkwardly hauled the tub out of the cage and locked the door. "I'll go dump this outside," he said, hoisting the tub onto his hip. "Uh...bye, Bruiser."</p><p>"Bye, asshole," Bruiser said, before he could stop himself. He froze, waiting to see what Casey would do, if he would consider this one disrespect too many. But the human just blinked at him and walked away.</p><p>Bruiser plopped down on the blanket and resumed rubbing his tender limbs, staring at the locked door and trying to come up with ways to destroy it.</p><p>He heard muffled voices from the main room, but didn't really pay attention until he heard someone say, "Heard that Daddy's given you a new pet, Casey. You give it a bath and everythin'? Did it wag its little tail at you?" Bruiser tensed at the words.</p><p>"Fuck off, Malo," Casey growled. <em>Malo.</em> Bruiser remembered that voice, and now he had a name. That man had found his tail after they'd chained him up and yanked it, laughing when he screamed. He was going to feed that fucker his own dick for that.</p><p>"I'm sure they're best buddies," someone else said. "They shared a nice, intimate moment when he was supposed to be helping us take the Jolly Green Whackjob down, didn't they?"</p><p>"Fuck. Off," Casey repeated. There was a <em>whump</em> that sounded as if someone had been elbowed in the stomach, followed a voice wheezing, "Not cool, man!" Then Bruiser heard a sound of stamping feet, and a door slammed.</p><p>"Prissy little bitch, ain't he?" another voice said. They were getting louder, closer. Shit. "No wonder Hun keeps 'im around here all the time. He'd fold gettin' loans and flip out durin' deals."</p><p>And then the men were gathered around his cage, smirking in at him. Most of them were sporting bandages and a few of them were holding cattle prods--prods that could definitely reach through the bars, and may be reach him where he'd place his blanket at the center.</p><p>Bruiser forced himself to remain perfectly still, to not get up or tense. He couldn't keep from showing them pain, but he would never show them fear. If they were going to lock him in a cage, he'd better start playing the role of the hungry, unpredictable predator.</p><p>"Look at you, sitting all pretty on your nice blanky and everythin," Malo crooned. "Do you like your new sugar daddy, sweetheart?" He pressed his face up against the bars and waggled his tongue. "He give you treats?"</p><p>Bruiser raised an eye ridge. "You jealous?" Chun (that little shit with the baseball bat, also on the castration list) snickered, and Malo shot him a dirty look.</p><p>"You know what I think?" asked another man--Link, someone had called him. He had a pretty impressive bite on his arm; Bruiser thought he might have actually swallowed a bit of flesh. "I think today's gymnastics routine was a fluke. I think that this little fuck's gonna be worth jack shit in the ring, and then Hun'll let us work whatever's left over 'til it stops twitching."</p><p>The words made Bruiser's heart stop, because what if today <em>was </em>a fluke? But he refused to let it show. <em>Focus on the anger. Let it burn out the fear.</em></p><p>He leaned forward, gazing directly into Link's eyes. "You know how everyone thinks people taste like chicken or something? It's bullshit," he said, voice dead calm. "You tasted like a hot dog. Nice, yummy hot dog." Link had actually tasted terrible, but he didn't need to know that. "Some people, they taste one way on the outsides and another on the insides. It's weird." Link's face went white at the words. "Do you think your liver will taste like hot dog, too, or are you more a hamburger type?"</p><p>"Shut the fuck up," Malo snarled.</p><p>"Hey, it's his liver," Bruiser replied, straightening back up. "I just thought he'd be the expert."</p><p>"You don't eat people, dipshit," said...ah, yes, Rahzar. The one at the other end of the leash. No dick in the mouth for him; Bruiser wanted to hear him die screaming. "You're a fuckin' <em>turtle.</em> You eat <em>leaves."</em></p><p>"I ain't a turtle anymore, remember?" Bruiser said, pointing at his crossed legs. "I'm a monster. A big, bad, ugly monster. I thought you an' Meals On Heels here already knew that?" He turned to the others. "You should'a seen the way these cunts pissed themselves when they first saw me. Ran away screamin', crying for their mommi--"</p><p>Rahzar shoved his prod forward, and Bruiser discovered that it could, in fact, reach him where he sat. He screamed, slamming back against the ground, his hands fisting in the blue blanket--</p><p><em>a pale hand protruding from a blue sleeve, locked with his as they staggered uphill together, on the run, only this couldn't be </em>right <em>because his skin wasn't green and the other child wasn't afraid of him</em></p><p>Several loud cracks echoed through Bruiser's throbbing skull, splitting the image apart. He lurched upright, gasping.</p><p>Casey stood in the center of the group, only now he was wielding a hockey stick and wearing a set expression. The other men had all stumbled away, rubbing their hands and arms.</p><p>"Hun wants him alive and intact," Casey said flatly. "You fuck with Bruiser again, you'll be messing with him next, an' he won't be nearly as nice as me. Now," he slammed the end of his stick onto Rahzar's rear, sending him stumbling away with a yowl, "beat it. Go find some shit to do."</p><p>The men marched off, shooting back occasional obscenities as they went.</p><p>When Casey turned back to Bruiser, his eyes were gentle again. "Here," he said, holding up a bag. "I've got some first-aid stuff." He opened the door long enough to hand it in. "You, uh...know how to use it right, right?"</p><p>Bruiser nodded, turning the contents over of the bag over in his hand. A monkey could figure out how ice packs and band aids worked. "Hey," he said, holding up the roll of Ace bandages, "You sure you can leave me with this? What if I hang myself?"</p><p>Casey actually let out a chuckle at that--not a mocking chuckle, a chuckle like he actually found what Raph had said funny. The action seemed to startle them both. For a moment, they studied each other in silence, Bruiser struggling to figure out the human's expression through the bars.</p><p>"Just...leave the stuff by the door when you're down," Casey muttered, and he slunk off. Bruiser took care of himself in silence, wondering whether he'd end up wanting to break that kid's neck cleanly when he escaped, or be more in the mood to flay him alive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Talking Through The Bars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We meet Angel (not the one in the title). Casey makes an effort to connect with his new houseguest.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hold still," Angel said, dabbing at the bruise that had started to form on Casey's face. They were crouching on the fire escape outside her apartment, while chatter and music bubbled up from her dad's bar below. Cold wind rippled across Casey's tender skin, making Angel's hair flow like a black and purple flag.</p><p>Hun didn't particularly like Angel, but he let Casey hang out with her "as long as ya don't make any wetback babies." Of course, he didn't know Angie was gay. The misconception that she was Casey's "girl" didn't win her many points among the Purple Dragons, but her status as the legendary Brooklyn Bridge's daughter kept them from stepping over the line.</p><p>Not that Angel, with her tautly muscled frame and Eskrima sticks (thanks to a childhood worship of Nightwing and years of self-defense classes) needed inherited street cred to defend herself.</p><p>Angel and Casey had been friends since they were little, playing in each other's living rooms while their dads discussed "business" over football and beer. They'd been close all throughout school, at least until Casey's dad had "suggested" he drop out to help with the gang (It was fine. Really. He'd never had good grades anyway).</p><p>Brooklyn wasn't the world's greatest dad, but at least he didn't hit her, so Casey could feel safe crashing at their place on Hun's worst nights. Even if it meant putting up with Angel's gentle suggestions that he move out of his dad's house, suggestions he always had to ignore because he loved his dad and didn't want to piss him off.</p><p>They'd been through a lot together over the years, and shared quite a few--but not all--of their secrets. So it made sense for Casey to tell her about Bruiser.</p><p>"So, was he made in a lab?" Angel asked.</p><p>Casey shrugged as he pressed the icepack to his face. "I don't know. Dad...Dad didn't really bother to ask." Bruiser's screams echoed in his head, loud to the point of painful.</p><p>Angel glanced out at the New York skyline, with all its bright lights and deep shadows. "You know, there was a kid at school last week who was tellin' everyone he saw a one-eyed cat in a trench coat in an alley. I just thought he just thought he was bullshitting or tripping balls, but..." She shrugged. "You're sure that it was real? No makeup or anything?"</p><p>"Yeah." There was no way Casey could mistake Bruiser's shell for a prop, or his fingers for gloves, or his green skin for paint.</p><p>And there was definitely no faking the way that the water had glittered on Bruiser's muscles while he took his bath. <em>God, </em>Casey felt like such a creepy idiot for staring. He hadn't told Angel about that, or about the way Bruiser's eyes had flashed so brightly in the warehouse's dim light. She was burdened with enough of the fallout from his screwed-up mental processes as it was.</p><p>"He doesn't want to be there," Angel said. It wasn't a question.</p><p>"Hun's the only one who can take the collar off," Casey muttered miserably. "It's high-tech stuff; we got after a pretty big score. Even if I let him out, he'd never get out the doors..."</p><p>"And your father was pissed off enough as it was, the last time you tried to let him go," Angel mused, running a thoughtful hand up and down an Eskrima.</p><p>"I didn't let him go, I just--froze," Casey said, staring at his hands. "I don't know what happened."</p><p>"Do you think he'd have a chance to get away if there was a police raid?" Angel asked, not looking at him.</p><p>Casey stiffened. "Are you fucking kidding me?"</p><p>"It's human trafficking--"</p><p>"Hun's my <em>dad</em>, Angel. Do you think you could calls the cops on Brooklyn, tell them what's going on down there?" It was common knowledge in the neighborhood that the Skara Brae was used for money laundering, but the idea of anyone actually fessing up to it--especially the proprietor's daughter--was unthinkable, and Angel knew it.</p><p>She glared at him. "My dad doesn't lock people in cages, Casey."</p><p>"Not that you know of." The glare intensified, and Casey's shoulder's slumped. "Sorry, that was uncalled for."</p><p>"Yeah, it was."</p><p>Casey rubbed his eyes with a groan. "Even if I <em>was</em> crazy enough to call the cops, they'd probably just ship him off to a lab to get dissected. At least at the warehouse he's--sort of--safe. I'm going to try to get Hun to treat him better, see maybe if he can take that fucking collar off..."</p><p>"You really think that's gonna work?" Angel asked, pinning him in place with her dark eyes.</p><p>Casey gazed back tiredly, feeling much older than his seventeen years. "Do you have any other suggestions?"</p><p>She didn't. Angel might have more leeway than he did, but they were both still bound by the rules of the street: loyalty, duty, silence. They owed everything to their fathers, and their fathers owed everything to each other. If Angel's conflicts with Hun ever escalated beyond arguments, if she actually tried to interfere in his business, she'd be going against her own dad.</p><p>Still, after a few seconds her eyes brightened. "C'mon," she said, leaping to her feet.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"If you can't bust your little green friend out tonight, you can at least get something to eat. Guy's been living on the streets, right? The one good thing that comes out of this shit is him getting a chance to taste some warm food."</p><p>Casey stood up, even though he was shaking his head. "My dad said he can't eat until he's had a fight..."</p><p>"What Hun doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, it's good to keep his strength up, right?"</p><p>He really didn't want to risk pissing off his father, but he also didn't want to ignore Angel and go to bed thinking about Bruiser, hungry in his case. So Casey sighed and followed.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you want to come in?" he asked as they stood outside the warehouse's back door.</p><p>Angel shook her head. "Nah, I don't want to make him feel like he's livin' in a zoo." She hefted her Eskrima. "See ya, Case."</p><p>"See ya. Try not break anyone's ribs on the way home." Angel had picked up the habit of using her sticks to slap around rapists and muggers she glimpsed in dark alleys. Brooklyn praised her for "protecting the turf" but when Casey asked her if that was why she did it she just stared at him and shrugged thoughtfully.</p><p>Casey got that. When he used his hockey sticks on the nasty assholes he ran into on New York's sticks, he wasn't sure why he was doing it. There was just a comforting mix of adrenaline and anger that came with people's faces into the dirt for a discernible <em>reason.</em></p><p>Angel shot him a shit-eating grin. "No promises." Then she was gone, melting into the dark like a shadow, her sneakers tapping quietly on the pavement.</p><p>The warehouse was quiet, except for the soft murmur of guards in the corner and the snuffling huffs of dogs in their cages. No one noticed Casey as he slipped in and made his way to the back, clutching a paper bag.</p><p>Tonight had been a series of battles between dogs, not people. Thankfully, Hun hadn't forced Casey to watch on this particular night, and he wouldn't have to clean up until morning. He avoided looking at the blood and piss that stained the floor, or peering too closely at the cages. He didn't want to see if any dogs were missing, not now.</p><p>He wondered what Bruiser had thought, listening to the fight. Whether he'd been scared, or angry on the dogs' behalf.</p><p>The turtle lay curled up in the corner of his cage, wrapped up in his blanket like a muscled green burrito. As Casey drew closer, he realized that even though Bruiser's eyes were closed, his breath was coming hard and fast.</p><p><em>"Haha,"</em> he breathed, and Casey jerked to a stop. "<em>Haha, matte, doko ni iru no?"</em></p><p>Casey's jaw dropped open. <em>What the fuck?</em> He didn't understand Japanese, but he'd heard people on the street use it, and he was 90% sure Bruiser was speaking it. How could he know Japanese? Casey barely grasped how he could understand <em>English.</em> And what was he saying?</p><p><em>"Mienai..." </em>Bruiser's body tensed. <em>"Bangō!"</em> He sat up with a cry, toppling forward and banging his head against a wall of bars.</p><p>"Shit..." he shook himself, rubbing his temples. Then he caught a glimpse of Casey and snapped upright, into a defensive crouch. "The fuck you want?" he growled.</p><p>"It's okay," Casey whispered, raising his arms like he was surrendering or some shit. "I brought you some food."</p><p>Bruiser gave the paper bag an appraising look. "What's that?"</p><p>"Hamburger. Can you keep your voice down?" Casey shot an anxious look over his shoulder. "I don't want the other guys hearing..."</p><p>Bruiser folded a pair of massive arms over his chest. "What do I gotta do for it?"</p><p>Casey stared. "What? Nothing." He creaked the cage door open and handed in the bag before locking the door again. Bruiser lifted the hamburger, turning it over thoughtfully in his hand.</p><p>"What'd you put innit?" he finally asked.</p><p>Casey's jaw dropped yet again. Did Bruiser really think he'd <em>drugged</em> the food? What earthly reason would he have to do that? "N-nothing," he stammered. "It's just...look, I'll take a bite if it makes you feel better."</p><p>Bruiser raised an eye ridge, but tore off a piece of burger and handed it in back through the bars. Casey took it, studiously ignoring how Bruiser's scales felt like nothing he'd ever encountered, and chewed it down. "See?" he said. "No cyanide or nothin'."</p><p>Bruiser looked him up and down a little before finally starting to eat, keeping his eyes locked on Casey's the entire time. "What's your game?" he asked through a mouthful of food.</p><p>Casey blinked. "Huh?"</p><p>Bruiser swallowed. "You almost let me go, but you didn't tell me that cunthead with the bat was sneakin' up on me. You let me have a bath instead of da' hose, you got me a blanket. You went all Big Bad Macho when the guys were pickin' on me, and the rest of da time you're acting like the dorky guy in a shitty rom-com. Now you're givin' me food, even though your daddy said no. So what's your game?"</p><p>Casey rubbed his eyes, partly out of exasperation and partly because when he thought about it, he really had no idea what his "game" was. "Look, I didn't know that Chun was comin' up behind you. And the other stuff...look, we're both in a really shitty situation and even if there's so much I can do, I wanna do it. Can't a guy just be nice?"</p><p>The turtle snickered. "Pretty speech, 'cept no one's nice to me unless they're blind, crazy, or they want something. So, what's the 'Kill 'Em With Kindness' routine about?" He lapped up the last of the hamburger grease and walked towards the bars, a wicked glint on his eye. "Do you wanna fuck me?"</p><p>Casey almost jumped out of his skin. "What? No...no, I don't--" He cut himself off before his voice could rise too high and resumed speaking in a whisper. "I, I don't wanna hurt you. I don't want anything from you."</p><p>"Good," said Bruiser, running a three-fingered hand along the bars with a distant expression. "I met guys on the street who wanted to do that, you know," he said. "Wanted to stick their dicks in the freak just to see what it felt like. You know what I did?"</p><p>He kept talking before Casey could think of a reply. "I bit their cocks off and swallowed them whole. Then I ate the rest of them."</p><p>Bruiser smiled, baring his teeth, and Casey suddenly realized that the smile was meant to scare him. To his surprise, it didn't.</p><p>Oddl7 enough he felt was sympathy for Bruiser, so desperate to frighten people because he didn't have any other means of protection. And anger at himself, for giving Bruiser a new thing to worry about on top of what had already been a very fucked-up twenty-four hours.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he said, lowering his head. "I didn't meant to scare you."</p><p>Bruiser took a step away from the bars, eyes widening in surprise. "You're not scared of me?" He tried on a mocking smile that didn't quite fit. "I guess you're even dumber than I thought. Good thing you're pretty." Try as he might, Casey couldn't keep his stomach from lurching pleasantly at the word <em>pretty</em>, even though he knew Bruiser didn't mean it.</p><p>The turtle clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward, a move that he probably thought was intimidating and Casey bet usually was. "I'm going to kill your dad, you know," he said. "I'm going to rip his eyes out of their sockets and chew them up like jelly beans."</p><p>"You don't eat people," Casey said, before he could stop himself. "If you did, you would'a killed Rahzar and Link when they first found you."</p><p>Bruiser went still. "I should'ave," he growled after a second, feet twitching. <em>Why the fuck am I trying to throw him off his guard?</em> Casey asked himself, and had no answer.</p><p>"Yeah, maybe you should have," he admitted out loud. "But you didn't."</p><p>They regarded each other in silence. Casey wanted to ask about Bruiser talking in Japanese, but didn't want the turtle to be weirded out by the idea of someone watching him in his sleep.</p><p>Eventually Bruiser's eyes shifted over Casey's shoulder, peering into the main room. "They're gonna make me fight," he said.</p><p>Casey sighed. "Yeah," he said. "Two days from now."</p><p>"I heard one of the dogs screaming," Bruiser said. "Bunch'a snappin' and growlin', then all of a sudden there was just this one, big scream." A flicker of vulnerability darted over his face. "Think that's gonna be me?"</p><p>"No," Casey said confidently. "Not with the moves you pulled today, no way. And once you start makin' money for my dad, he'll probably start treatin' you better."</p><p>"Will he let me go?" Bruiser asked, his voice sounding very empty and tired.</p><p>Casey looked down, unable to meet those bright blue eyes. "No," he admitted. "Probably not."</p><p>He glanced back up to see Bruiser staring at his own feet, his expression dark. And suddenly, Casey would have done anything to wipe that look off his face. "Can I get you something to read?" he asked.</p><p>Bruiser looked back up at him, confused. "What?"</p><p><em>What?</em> "Ummm..." Casey's fingers tapped nervously on the sides of his jeans, but he couldn't take the words back. "I've got, like some books in my house. I could bring them to you, give ya somethin' to do so you won't go batshit nuts with boredom. You won't have to, like, do anythin' for 'em," he added hastily.</p><p>Bruiser's eyes lightened for a minute, before dimming with shame. "I can't read so good," he muttered.</p><p>"Me neither," Casey said truthfully. "I've got some picture books lyin' around, I can get ya that. They've got some really funny shit in those things; they're not just for little kids."</p><p>Bruiser's face worked for a few seconds as he mentally debated the pros and cons of saying yes. At last he muttered, "M'Kay," before holding out the paper bag. "Here. You don't want Daddy dearest to know you've been feedin' me on the sly."</p><p>"Thanks, dude," Casey said, taking the bag. He heard footsteps moving in the main room and decided not to risk staying too long. "Night, Bruiser," he murmured, starting to walk away.</p><p>"Night, Casey," Bruiser replied, not moving from where he stood in the cage. Casey felt those blue eyes burning into his back long after he was gone.</p><p>That night, Casey lay in his bed, mind spinning with guilt and confusion.</p><p>Something inside him whispered that Bruiser's arrival would change things, maybe for good, although he wasn't sure how.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations (I hope these are right, I got them off Google Translate and am neither Japanese nor reincarnated in a mutant body):</p><p>Haha: Mother</p><p>Haha, matte, doko ni iru no?: Mother, wait, where are you?</p><p>Mienai...: I can't see...</p><p>Bangō!: No!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Showtime</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fun with the alphabet and severe bodily trauma. Bruiser's buried memories prove both a help and a hindrance in his first fight.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>A is for Apple,</em> said the book. Bruiser's eyes flicked from the apple--bright, red, round, a far cry from the shitty little fruits he usually fished out of people's trashcans--to the word A. Back and forth, back and forth. <em>A. </em>So that was what the weird letter with all the points sounded like.</p><p>Was he embarrassed about being totally illiterate? Yeah. Did he think Casey's gifts were deeply weird and not a little suspicious? Yeah. Had he been planning for using Casey's books as toilet paper, and already started on one? Yeah. Had he become more bored than he ever imagined possible, since working out to the point of exhaustion only took up so many hours in this fucking cage? Yeah. Was he now desperate enough to read a book for five year olds? Fuck yeah.</p><p><em>B is for Balloon.</em> Bruiser had only seen balloons a few times. He remembered that there had been a shit ton of them that one time he'd snuck into a little kid's birthday party and made off with the cake. He'd told himself that he needed it more than that spoiled brat, that the kid's mom could probably buy a new one in ten minutes.</p><p>Still, when he'd eaten too quickly and thrown up, it had almost felt like he deserved it.</p><p><em>C is for Cook.</em> The image of a man in a hat that looked like a powdered dildo was just confusing, but the plate of food in his hand made Bruiser's stomach growl. Casey had managed to pass him some more hamburger with the books, but it really wasn't enough for a growing turtle (at least he thought he was growing. Was he growing?)</p><p><em>D is for Dog.</em> Bruiser winced at the picture. They'd dragged a smashed-up ruin of a dog away from the ring after one of the fights, paws dragging on the floor like a stuffed animal's. He hadn't been able to tear his eyes off it. <em>That's gonna be you, freak show</em>, someone had said, and Bruiser had snarled an insult, grateful beyond belief that his voice didn't shake.</p><p>He'd felt tears trickle down his face later that night, and had ended up burying his face in his arms so no one could see. He'd always been such a ridiculous softy over animals; he'd sniffle over dead birds and catch himself giving food to starving cats even though he <em>knew</em> he risked having to beat the little bastards away with a stick. Fucking pathetic.</p><p><em>E is for--</em> Bruiser heard footsteps coming and quickly shoved the book back under his blanket with the others. He didn't doubt that someone would take the books away out of sheer cruelty...and he didn't want to get Casey in trouble. Not while the kid might be still be useful.</p><p>"Heeey, Bruiser," Malo crooned, rapping his fist on the bars. "You better start gettin' yourself pretty, cause tonight's your big debut. Our little princess, off to the ball..." He traced a fake tear down his face. "Warms m'heart, it really does."</p><p>Bruiser growled at him, wishing with all his heart that he had middle fingers to extend. <em>A is for Asshole. B is for Bastard. C is for Cocksucker. D is for---</em> "Whatever, dispshit," he muttered, lying back with his arms casually crossed over his head. Pretending he was relaxed, comfortable, that he didn't hear Malo's words.</p><p>Pretending that his heart wasn't hammering in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>The warehouse was full of voices, with the scent of sweaty male bodies and the <em>screech</em> of boards being dragged into place.There was shitty rap music blasting at top volume, and sadly no one had gotten drunk enough (yet) to smash the stereo system, although a turtle could hope.</p><p>Same as the last few nights, only the barking dogs had been tucked away back here with him, growling and snuffling as they enjoyed their brief respite. He could hear fighters gearing up, exchanging curses and insults, along with a few ludicrous ring names (who the fuck calls themselves <em>Snake?).</em></p><p>Hun was standing in front of his cage with some guy Bruiser didn't know, talking about him like he wasn't even there. Bruiser leaned against the far wall of bars, fantasizing about roasting them over a slow fire.</p><p>"Angel told me about it," said the stranger, gaping openly. "I didn't believe her; thought your boy was puttin' her on. And you just f<em>ound</em> it?"</p><p>"Link n' Rahzar did," said Hun, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops with a grin. "Ornery as fuck, but it's gonna make a hell of a show in the ring. You know I ain't one to turn away a gold mine."</p><p>The man shuffled his feet, looking awkward. "Angel...she said it could <em>talk. </em>She seemed kind of upset about it, to be honest."</p><p>"Talk?" Hun shrugged. "Yeah, it can curse some, brags 'bout eatin' people. We think it just mimics stuff, shit like that. I mean, it's not like it's a person, y'know? And Angel..." He gave a commiserating sigh. "Look, you know how chicks and kids are sometimes. She'll get over it, Brooklyn."</p><p><em>"Brooklyn?" </em>The snicker burst out of Bruiser before he could contain it. "You got brothers named Bronx and Harlem, then? A sister named Queens? Were your parents tryin' to be clever or just really fuckin' starved for inspiration?"</p><p>They were looking at him now, him and his big goddamn mouth. And they looked <em>pissed</em>, especially Brooklyn, who'd probably been hearing jokes in that vein for a lifetime. <em>Shit. Shit. Shit.</em></p><p>His instinct was to shrink in on himself, but showing weakness was a fucking death sentence, so he forced his face into a smirk and made a mock bow. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week."</p><p>Hun pressed against a hand against the bars, a dark smile on his face as the button glittered in his other hand. "You wanna say sorry to the nice man, Bruiser?"</p><p><em>Yes I'm sorry please don't hurt me-- </em>Bruiser pushed the scared little voice down, made himself walk towards the humans. "What I want," he growled, face inches from Hun's, "Is for you to come in here without your little bondage toys so I can kick your pasty ass<em> again."</em></p><p>Hun quirked an eyebrow, looking almost impressed as he passed the button to Brooklyn. "I'll let you do the honors, buddy." Brooklyn only hesitated for a second before doing just that.</p><p>Bruiser braced himself, only to remember too late that there is no bracing yourself against fire in your veins and lightning in your brain. He collapsed to his knees with a shriek, stomach boiling.</p><p><em>Do not throw up. Do not throw up. </em>If he threw up they might see the hamburger; he didn't know how that digestion shit worked. And then he and Casey would both be royally fucked.</p><p><em>Breathe. Focus. Concentrate. Control yourself. </em>He wasn't sure where the impulse--the voice?--came from, slow and soothing as a metronome, but he listened. His muscles clenched and burned, shaking with effort, and in the end he managed to force the puke back down. <em>I call that a win.</em></p><p>When it was over he lifted his teeth, gritted his head, and forced himself to spit out a curse: <em>"Cunt."</em></p><p>"The hell did he just say?" This came from Brooklyn, but the man didn't look pissed, just...confused. <em>Huh?</em></p><p>Hun shrugged. "Dunno. Sometimes he talks like that when he's asleep or just had his brain fired. We think he escaped from a Japanese lab or something--the slant-eyes are always into weird shit."</p><p><em>What? </em>He'd--he'd been speaking English, hadn't he? Or....something that made sense to him. Which had had to be English. Right?</p><p>
  <em>What the fuck?</em>
</p><p>"Come on, the first fight's startin'. We've got 'im slotted in at number three." The men walked off, still talking, while Bruiser shifted back to a kneeling position and tried to process the fact that he'd been speaking another language <em>without fucking noticing.</em></p><p>Then he heard the first shouts from the ring, the first impacts of fists against flesh. And the fear was downing him all over again, so that he couldn't think about anything else.</p><p> </p><p>They came for him with some kind of stick that had a retractable collar at the end. <em>Of course--</em>Hun wouldn't want to fuck him up with a shock, not so close to the fight. They'd control him with physical force instead.</p><p>It was probably hopeless, but Bruiser made them work for it anyway, dancing and snarling around his cage. When they finally snagged him and hauled him out, choking for air, Hun landed a bruising punch on his shoulder. "Fuck with us like that again and I'll cut your pretty little tail off," he hissed. Bruiser tried to punch him back, so they yanked him away and shackled his hands behind his back.</p><p>He was dragged through the crowd, a million eyes on his skin. More humans were looking at him than he had ever imagined possible, and there was a screaming biting burning urge to <em>get away, </em>to <em>not be seen.</em> He couldn't, though, buried as he was under collar after collar.</p><p>There were words in the air, buzzing in his ear slits.</p><p>
  <em>Jesus fucking Christ...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's like someone shrunk the Hulk...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don't worry babe, I'll protect ya from the big green monster...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Doesn't even have a cock, does that mean it's a girl...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Naah, Chun woulda fucked it already if it were a girl...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Think it can understand us?</em>
</p><p>The words made his cheeks burn, even though they shouldn't have. What the fuck did Bruiser care about the opinions about a few stupid humans? He raised his head high, did his best to meet the eyes of everyone who looked at him.</p><p>When he saw Casey, he almost jittered to a halt. The boy stood propped against the wall, hands shoved awkwardly in his jeans. He gave a strained smile and a thumbs-up, then immediately blushed and looked down at his feet. Probably embarrassed about showing support for the freak in public.</p><p>They unhooked the cuffs and stick-collar before shoving him into the ring, nearly knocking him off his feet. Bruiser nearly did a 360 before finally finding his opponent.</p><p>"What the shit?" A massive, shirtless man with a swastika tattooed on his bald head stood there, gaping at him. "'Am I bein' punished for somethin', Hun? Fucker looks <em>diseased."</em></p><p>"Don't be a pussy, Jefferson, it's fine," said Hun, leaning over the edge of the ring. "We tested it an' everything."</p><p>Before Bruiser could announce that this was bullshit--or wonder if he really was diseased--the man had shrugged and swung a fist at his head.</p><p>There was a soft <em>whoosh </em>of air across Bruiser's face as he leaned out of the way. <em>He's telegraphing his movements. A warrior's expression should always be calm, like a mountain face. Where the </em>fuck<em> did that come from?</em></p><p>Jefferson swung, and Bruiser ducked. Again and again, the human letting out frustrated growls as they wove crazily across the ring. Bruiser threw a wild jab, but it bounced off hard muscle and he barely recovered enough in time to dodge the next punch.</p><p>"Quit hopping around and do somethin', Tinkerbell!" someone yelled, and Jefferson obliged by kneeing Bruiser between the legs.</p><p>It didn't hurt as much as it would with a human, but it still fucking <em>stung. </em>He staggered backward with a yelp, and Jefferson followed up with a one-two combo that slammed Bruiser against the wall, blood pouring from his nose.</p><p><em>Why didn't you protect your groin you idiot it is dishonorable to use that form of attack what the actual fuck who cares about honor I'm out of my goddamn mind</em> All of this passed through Bruiser's mind in the split second it took before Jefferson kicked him in the chest, breaking at least one rib with a sickening <em>crack</em>.</p><p>The world slowed down. The screams of the crowd, Hun's outraged roars, the raspy movements of his lungs, all stretched out into a thick whining drone. Everything splintered, fractured, narrowing down to the man who was drawing his foot back to kick him again, hurt him <em>again,</em> just like so many men had done so many times, before and after he'd come to this terrible place.</p><p>
  <em>How dare he.</em>
</p><p>Bruiser wrapped his fingers around the approaching ankles and <em>yanked, </em>slamming Jefferson back against the ground with a <em>thud</em>. He jumped upright, but Bruiser was already charging towards him, moving quick and fast across the ring. He threw two wild punches; Bruiser dodged one and blocked the other before landing a brutal roundhouse kick.</p><p>
  <em>How dare they.</em>
</p><p>The crowd was screaming and the world had broken into a flashshow of green and white fists. Bruiser's chest hurt stop, but he didn't stop, he <em>couldn't </em>stop.</p><p>
  <em>How dare those fuckers.</em>
</p><p>Jefferson's movements were so awkward compared to his, so wild and confused. He moved like a boxer, a street brawler. Bruiser moved like...something else entirely. Something fast and clever and <em>vicious</em>.</p><p>
  <em>How dare they lock me up, treat me like a beast. Don't they know it's dangerous to make a monster into a pet?</em>
</p><p>All of a sudden Jefferson's head was snapping backwards, over and over and <em>ooover</em> again. <em>Why is he doing that?</em> Was that Bruiser's fists hitting him, so many times? But it <em>couldn't </em>be him, could it? He didn't even want to be here. So it couldn't be him screaming, laughing, yelling "Are you laughing, you sick bastards? <strong>Are you laughing now, anata wa sadisutikkuna on'na?!"</strong></p><p>
  <em>How dare they do this to the son of</em>
</p><p>He collapsed to his knees, screaming, it <em>hurt it hurt it so bad</em>. Why were they doing this, why were they hurting him, he'd <em>won</em>, his opponent was lying on the ground without moving--</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Oh, God.</p><p>He wasn't moving.</p><p><em>His brother was lying on the ground, blood staining his purple robe, not moving. There was blood on his face, bruises under his brother's dark hair, and oh </em>no--</p><p>Bruiser crawled to his side, tried to make the man sit up because you shouldn't be left lying down with blood in your throat, you might choke, only now they had the collar-stick on him as he was dragged away--</p><p>
  <em>His older brother was pulling his arms behind his back, and he wasn't fighting, just crying even though he was too old to cry, saying he was sorry, he didn't mean it--</em>
</p><p>He couldn't breathe, not with the collar and the crying, he hadn't meant to do it,<em> I'm so sorry,</em> <em>ani</em>.</p><p><em>His youngest brother was crying too, was scared, scared of</em> him<em>,</em><em> and his father was holding the fallen boy upright while looking up at him and he looked so </em>disappointed--</p><p>"All <em>right!"</em> Hun was shaking him by the shoulders, looking delighted. "I knew you had it in ya, ya crazy little shit!"</p><p>
  <em>He wanted his mother, but his mother was dead and never never coming back, and she would hate him if she was here because he was a monster, always a monster--</em>
</p><p>"Jesus, is it <em>crying?"</em></p><p>"Its brain's probably fried at this point. Be glad it's not shitting itself."</p><p>
  <em>His older brother had wrestled him to the ground, because he was trying to run away, bury himself in the woods, he didn't even consider seppuku because he didn't deserve that honor--</em>
</p><p>"Casey!" Hun barked. The boy was at his side, rubbing his shell while he threw up and who gave a shit about Hun seeing hamburger in his puke when he'd just turned a <em>person</em> into hamburger.</p><p>"Tape up its ribs and clean it up," Hun said. "We'll throw it back into the ring in a few rounds." He stalked off, muttering to himself. "Fuck, we're gonna make a <em>mint--"</em></p><p>
  <em>Why was he like this why did he always hurt his brothers his father what was wrong with him why why why--</em>
</p><p>"Is he okay?"</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>Bruiser forced himself to straighten him up and look Casey in the eye. "The guy--Jefferson. Is he alive? Did I--did I kill him?"</p><p>Casey glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at him with a reassuring smile. "He's alive, I saw him twitchin'. He'll have a monster of a headache for a while, but that's fine. Jefferson's an asshole."</p><p>"Oh, thank God," Bruiser said, sagging against the wall.</p><p>
  <em>His brother raised his head with a groan and he was so relieved he cried harder.</em>
</p><p>He sat on the floor, next to the pile of vomit, as Casey worked on him. Bruiser stilled his hands and willed himself to <em>control</em> them, to remember how to defend himself without completely losing his shit. He could do it. He knew he could. He <em>had</em> to.</p><p>"Make," he drew a shuddering breath, "Make your dad stop me, before I get that far again. Please."</p><p>Casey looked doubtful, but he said, "I'll try."</p><p>"Thank you." An impulse struck Bruiser, and he reached out to squeeze Casey's hand. His hand was so warm, so soft, so <em>sane. </em>Everything in the world was made of sharp broken edges, except for Casey.</p><p>He held on for dear life, until they came to take him away again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Google translate.</p><p>Anata wa sadisutikkuna on'na!: You sadistic cunts!</p><p>Ani: Brother.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Blood On Snow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bruiser lets something sleep after his first fight. Hun prepares to take an ugly step.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Minor dialogue change. I realized Hun wouldn't want Raph to get painkillers because Hun is an asshole.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They made Bruiser fight two more times before Hun called it quits. By the time they were done he'd passed into the "loopy" stage of the painkillers Casey had slipped him, which was probably for the best because he had a bunch of cracked ribs, a puffy lip, a busted finger that Casey had wrapped as best he could and a pretty bad cut over his forehead.</p><p>But he had tracked Casey’s finger before he got the painkillers, muttering curses all the while, so at least he didn’t have a concussion. Casey <em>hoped </em>he didn't have a concussion, because he had no fucking clue what to do about that, and Googling it might just make everything worse.</p><p>Casey couldn't find any surgical thread and he definitely didn't want to ask Hun, so he had to call Angel to bring some. “I’m on my way,” she said, with the same tired sigh she did whenever she had to help sew him back together after a “disagreement.”</p><p>Bruiser swayed as Casey guided him into the cage and sat him down. He was humming some sort of lullaby, his eyes focused somewhere to the side of Casey's head. </p><p>"Where did you learn that?" Casey asked, trying to find away to arrange Bruiser's blankets so that they were comfortable without exposing the books to passerby. "That song?"</p><p>"Don' remember," Bruiser said. He let out a soft sniffle.</p><p>"Hey," Casey said, kneeling down besides him. "It's okay. You did good. You didn't lose control again."</p><p>"An' Jefferson's okay?" Bruiser asked again.</p><p>"Yeah." The truth was that Casey hadn't actually seen Jefferson move or breathe when he was hauled out of the arena, but he'd been carried by his arms and legs, so that was good, right? They would have just dragged a corpse by his arms.</p><p>Besides, he hadn't wanted to tell Bruiser anything different. He'd screwed up enough with the waving; who the fuck <em> waves </em>for someone about to be forced to fight?</p><p>"Your hair's wrong."</p><p>"Sorry?" Casey glanced down at Bruiser, who was peering at him thoughtfully.</p><p>"Too short." Casey jumped a little when a three-fingered hand patted him on the head, fingers tangling in his loose strands. "Right color, but...too short."</p><p>"Right." Weird little tingles were racing down Casey's scalp. "Uh...who am I being compared to, again?"</p><p>"Don' remember." Bruiser's grip tightened a little, and he was gazing very deeply into Casey's eyes. "Soft," he murmured. "You're softer'n you look."</p><p>"Thanks," Bruiser legs were pressing against Casey's calves and his muscles were digging into Casey's skin and really every part of Casey was at a very awkward angle, and yet...Bruiser's hand didn't make him feel frightened, the way he usually did when people touched him. Maybe it was only because he knew Bruiser was too high to hurt him, but he didn't want to push the turtle away.</p><p>"Am I interrupting something?"</p><p>So instead of pushing the turtle away, Casey had to discover that "jumping out of your skin" is a very intense physical sensation as he toppled over on his ass.</p><p>"Jesus, Angel!" he hissed, staggering upright. "Thought you were...." He glanced over her shoulder, where Hun and the other Purple Dragons were still having a raucous celebration.</p><p>"Sorry," she said, slipping into the cage. "You okay?" she asked Bruiser.</p><p>Bruiser blinked, as if startled that Angel would talk to him. "You....you his girlfriend?" he asked, chewing his lip with a look of concern.</p><p>"Huh? No, I'm not Casey's girlfriend, we're just buddies." Angel dropped down by his side. "My name's Angel Bridge. I'm gonna stitch you up, okay?"</p><p>"M'Kay." Bruiser watched blearily while Angel got to work, her fingers quick and nimble. "You got purple hair," he mumbled.</p><p>"Yeah, I do," Angel replied. “Now hold still.”</p><p>"Shouldn't it be red?"</p><p>Angel blinked, although her fingers stayed steady. "Well, I never thought about red, but thanks for the suggestion."</p><p>"No," Bruiser mumbled, tapping his fingers on his leg. "You're not...her. She was all red and white, like...like blood in snow. She took care of us, gave us food." He gave a soft smile. "Little brother always wanted too much."</p><p>Casey's eyes widened. "Little brother...are there more of you? And that--that blood in snow lady, she took care of you? Like a doctor or something?"</p><p>"<em> Not </em> a doctor," Bruiser growled. "She was <em> nicer </em> than the doctors, and <em> smarter. </em> She <em> knew </em> us."</p><p>"Okay, okay, so not a doctor," Casey said quickly. "Got it."</p><p>"This woman..." Angel shot a look over her shoulder, where her father was laughing with Hun. "Is she looking for you? Could she...could she help us get you out of here?"</p><p>Bruiser frowned. "Don't know," he mumbled. "Where we were, with her--I wanted to get out. I want to get out of <em> everywhere </em> . But she, <em> she </em> wasn't bad. If it was just her...it might be okay."</p><p>"Do you remember her name?" Casey asked quietly.</p><p>Bruiser stared at him for several seconds.</p><p>"Bruiser?" Angel asked, cutting off a stitch.</p><p>"Pretty," he said.</p><p>Casey blinked. "Pretty?"</p><p>"She was pretty, I think," Bruiser said, staring directly at Casey. "Different kind of pretty. Not like you're pretty."</p><p>There was a decent-sized stretch of silence.</p><p>"You think I'm....pretty?" Casey asked delicately.</p><p>"Yeah," Bruiser nodded. "I mean, before I was scared of ya, but when....when we held hands, you were so <em> soft. </em>You're always soft. I've never met anyone soft before. You look so...pretty when you're soft."</p><p>There was some more silence.</p><p>"Say thank you, Casey," Angel prodded, a weird expression on her face as she finished her stitches.</p><p>"Um....thank ya," Casey said.</p><p>"You're welcome." Bruiser moistened his lips. "I'm tired."</p><p>"I get that, dude," Casey said, rubbing his head. "It's been a long day for all of us."</p><p>"Well, luckily, you're good for now, Bruiser," Angel said, patting his shoulder. "I'll come back and check up on you in a bit, okay?"</p><p>"Kay." Bruiser started to face-plant on his blanket, but Casey stopped him.</p><p>"Whoa, dude. Books, remember?"</p><p>“Books?” Angel raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“I got him some of my old stuff,” Casey muttered, pushing things around so that Bruiser would have a comfortable place to sit without the books being seen.</p><p>Angel nodded carefully, still wearing that weird look as she helped Bruiser lay down. “You guys are really nice.” he mumbled sleepily. “<em> Arigatōgozaimashita.</em>”</p><p>And then he began to snore.</p><p>“Before you ask, no, I don’t know what that means,” Casey said, learning back against the bars with a sigh. “I don’t know what a lot of the stuff he says means, an’ I’m not sure he does, either.”</p><p>“Well, at least he knows how <em> pretty </em> you are,” Angel replied, and Casey was getting pretty sick of that look.</p><p>“Look, it don’t mean anything, okay?” he shot back, trying to keep his voice down. “He’s just trippin’ on the meds, I probably gave ‘im too much.”</p><p>“Probably,” Angel said.</p><p>“He won’t even remember it when he wakes up.”</p><p>“Most likely not.”</p><p>“Then stop <em> starin’ </em>at me like that.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“You know what--”</p><p>“Angel!”</p><p>
  <em> Fuuuuuuck. </em>
</p><p>Brooklyn was walking towards the cage now, fists clenched at his sides. “Get away from that thing, girl, it’s dangerous!” he called, eyes bright with worry.</p><p>Angel smiled, the kind of razor-sharp smile that usually meant someone’s throat was about to be ripped out. “Oh, don’t be like that, Dad,” she crooned, ruffling Casey’s hair. “Case wouldn’t hurt a fly.”</p><p>Brooklyn rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Now come on, let’s go home.”</p><p>“<em>Fine,” </em> Angel muttered, rising to her feet, “We can stop by the FBI on the way home, yeah?”</p><p>Brooklyn let out a put-upon sigh as Angel and Casey emerged from the cage. “We talked about this already, baby. It’s not a person--”</p><p>“Until <em>he</em> stops making money, I know, I know,” Angel said, raising her voice so that heads started turning in her direction. “Then he’s just a worthless slave to throw back into the street.”</p><p><em> Shit. </em> Casey wanted to grab for her hand, pull her back, do <em> something </em>to undo what she’d just said. But his hands were hanging stiffly at his sides and his feet were moved to the ground. If he was able to speak, he wasn’t sure what he’d say, and that scared him.</p><p>Hun had no such problems. “You got something to say to me, kiddo?” he asked, a soft growl in his voice. There was a nasty glint in his eye, and Casey bet he’d say something a lot worse than “kiddo” if Brooklyn wasn’t there.</p><p>“Nothin’ you’d be willing to hear,” Angel said, and Casey thought there might be a glimmer of sadness in her eyes.</p><p>“Well, then get off your high horse, missy, ‘cause you and your daddy will be makin’ just as much bank from the little freak as we are,” Hun shot back.</p><p>Brooklyn tried to step between them, putting a hand on Angel’s shoulder. “Come on, kiddo, let’s just go home.”</p><p>“That doesn’t make it right,” Angel said, ignoring him. “Doesn’t make it any less of <em> your </em> idea, either. It ain’t right, and these dumbfucks know it ain’t right, and locking down someone just because of what they look like makes you just as bad as the <em> cops </em> and the <em> judges.” </em></p><p>There was a soft gasp at that. You didn’t compare a Purple Dragon to a cop, not when so many people had seen relatives and neighbors and simple bystanders sent to the prison or the grave because of them. And you sure as shit didn’t do it to <em> Hun. </em></p><p>(Even if it was true. Even if Casey only wished he had the guts to do it himself)</p><p>But Angel seemed to realize she’d fucked up. Her breath caught and her fists clenched, eyes flicking to Casey. He could see fear there; not for herself, but for him and Bruiser.</p><p>“Angel,” Brooklyn said calmly. “We’re going home.”</p><p>“Okay,” Angel said, taking a breath. “Come on, Casey.”</p><p>“Casey’s <em> staying,” </em>Hun announced firmly. Brooklyn nodded.</p><p>Angel frowned. “But--”</p><p>“It’ll be okay,” Casey said, giving her a small mile.</p><p>It wouldn’t be. They both knew it wouldn’t be, but Angel couldn’t do anything else without making this worse, and they knew that too.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she said.</p><p>She was looking at Casey, but Hun laughed anyway. “No hard feelings, sweetheart,” he said. He made to pat her on the shoulder, but she twisted nimbly away from his touch and stalked out the warehouse on Brooklyn’s heels.</p><p>Malo whistled as she walked and received a painful <em> crack </em> across his arm for his efforts. “ <em> Shit </em>!” he yelled, whirling at the door as it slammed behind Brooklyn and Angel. “You fucking--”</p><p>“Aw, shaddup and put some ice on it,” Hun muttered, rounding on Casey. He had only a second to brace himself before white-hot <em> pain </em>was exploding across his cheek, sending him staggering backwards.</p><p>“Get your bitch under control,” Hun said. “Or if you won’t, and her numb-nuts daddy won’t, than <em> I </em>will.”</p><p><em> She’s not mine, and she’s telling the truth, </em> Casey wanted to say. But he doesn’t, because he’s a coward, and broken, <strike>and he’s seen what happens to people who push Hun too far</strike>.</p><p>He expected his father to hit him again, but instead Hun just turned away with a growl. “If some crazy wetback is tryin’ to tell me what <em> I </em> should do with <em> my </em>property, things are definitely getting fucked up around here.”</p><p>Hun’s eyes shifted across the room, to the little green form still huddled in the cage, and it dawned on Casey why his father stopped hitting him….because he had another target, now.</p><p>“That thing’s asleep?” Hun asked.</p><p>“I gave him some painkillers,” Casey muttered, looking at his toes.</p><p>“Dogs don’t need painkillers,” Hun barked. “Somebody wake it up. I want it to remember this.” Casey’s blood went cold at the words.</p><p>Hun was nodding to himself now, his voice thoughtful. “I was gonna wait a coupla days for this, but it’d probably be smarter to stake my claim now.”</p><p>He turns to the remaining Purple Dragons. “Chun, Link, get some chains. Malo....”</p><p>His father pauses, thinking, and Casey wishes they could all just stay in the moment, that he could pretend his father wouldn’t go this far, wasn’t capable of--</p><p>“Malo, start heatin’ up some wires.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Arigatōgozaimashita - thank you</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Teeth In My Skin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bruiser dreams of hope before reality drags him back down.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He sat up with a groan, rubbing his head. Shit. Did he fall asleep in Central Park again? He should probably get a move before he has another nasty encounter with a cop or a hooker.</p><p>There was a dark dream swirling in the back of his head as he emerged from a stand of trees, his feet shadow-quiet in a way they never were when he paid attention to them. He turned to scan the park, searching for the most discreet way out--and then he froze.</p><p>Because there was <em>light </em>everywhere, golden and strange and damning. His first instinct was to run, but there was nowhere to run <em>to,</em> no buildings to offer comforting shadows in the distance, no roads out of here, not even any cars to hide behind. There was no one to run from, either, just a park (was it a park?) full of trickling brooks and rustling flowers, trees he can't recognize and weird little rock gardens.</p><p>"Beautiful, isn't it?"</p><p>He almost jumped out of his shell at that, whirling to find a woman standing a few feet away. She was Asian, with long black hair pulled in some kind of elaborate headdress and a fancy robe that he'd never seen anyone wear before. More importantly, she didn't scream or run away at the sight of him, and that was more than enough to get his hackles up.</p><p>"Jesus, lady!" he growled, raising his fists. "Don't sneak up on a guy like that!"</p><p>The woman laugh, bright and wild, and he frowned. Why is she laughing? No one ever laughed at him unless there was pain coming. He tensed, scanning the undergrowth, looking for whatever force or trap that would make her so confident.</p><p>"My apologies," the woman said, raising a slender hand. "I did not mean to scare you, my son. It is just...you are exactly as I thought you would be, after everything." Her face sobeeds, and she took a careful step forward. "But we do not have much time."</p><p>"I'll be the judge'a that," he growled, stepping backward. He didn't trust anyone kooky enough to call something like him <em>son. </em>"The fuck are you supposed to be?" He waved around his head at the whole freaky garden setup. "Where am I?"</p><p>"The only place I can reach you," she said, biting her lip. He took another step back and her face tightened, an expression that feels him with a peculiar guilt. "Oh, my poor fierce boy."</p><p>"I'm not yours," he hissed, glancing around, still looking for a way out. Were those voices he heard in the distance?</p><p>She went on as if she hasn't even heard him. "The others are looking for you, my love. What's happened to you is terrible, but you must be strong until they arrive."</p><p><em>Others?</em> "What others?" he growled. "Who's chasin' me?" Who the fuck would want <em>him?</em></p><p>"Your family is looking for you," she said, raising her voice a little over the growing rumble in the distance.</p><p>He let out a mean, pained laugh. "Things like me don't have family."</p><p>"You have more than you imagine possible," the woman told him. "You have people who are looking for you, and you have people who can help you until they arrive. Trust the boy and his friend, my love. They will help you however they can."</p><p>The <em>boy</em> and his friend. Oh, shit, Casey. He'd made a total sap of himself in front someone he didn't even <em>know, </em>he'd called him <em>cute, </em>and then he'd....he'd...he'd passed out, hadn't he?</p><p>His fists clenched and he glancing around, eyes wild, heartbeat far too fast and too loud. The voices were so loud in his ears and <em>why couldn't he move his arms? </em>"What's going on?" he spatout.</p><p>"It will be all right." The woman was standing closer to him, too close while somehow being not close enough. "You will endure, my love. You have a spirit to break mountains."</p><p>"Who are you?" The word came out as a soft rasp, almost unheard under the rising noise. He could see the woman's hair rippling around her head, flashes of red mixed with the black. <em>Blood on snow, </em>although it wasn't not snow, it was cold steel and grasping shadows and the smell of rot choking him--</p><p>The sound hit him like a wave, and he woke up.</p><p>The light was gone, the woman was gone, everything was gone except for throbbing pain and something cold around his wrists. He let out a soft hiss as he tugged at the restraints, wincing as painfully loud voices skittered across his ear slits.</p><p>
  <em>What was that smell?</em>
</p><p>Voices. Familiar voices, ones that made his belly clench with bad memories.</p><p>"Dad, I don't, I mean....<em>look at him, </em>nobody's gonna pretend he's their's. You don't have to mark him to--oof!"</p><p>"It's not for other gangs, dumbass, it's for <em>Bruiser. </em>Little shit's thinking he's a big man now that he's wiped the floor in the ring, and I wanna show who he belongs to."</p><p>"Initiation is initiation," someone joined in. "No need to be a pussy about it."</p><p>"Y-yeah, but--"</p><p>A yelp of pain. A hiss of metal. Bruiser cracked his eyes open with a groan, saw a blur of pale skin and faintly glinting light.</p><p>"I-I mean, what if we give 'im an infection?"</p><p>"I branded cattle all the time 'fore that fuckin' factory closed down," a new voice added, tinged with bitterness on the word <em>factory,</em> before perking up: "The little shit'll be fine.."</p><p>He...he was still in the cage, only know his arms were shackled above his head. Bruiser yanked harder, growling as the world spun and twisted before his eyes.</p><p>"Mornin', sunshine," a stranger said, looming outside the cage with something gleaming in his hands. "Daddy'll be with you in a minute."</p><p><em>Shit.</em> Bruiser rolled his eyes around, trying to see a way out, to figure out what the exact <em>fuck </em>is going on. Hun was standing over the man with the shining things, arms crossed, a look of satisfaction on his face. He didn't even seem to notice Casey kneeling besides him, one hand on his bloody nose and the other on his ribs, wheezing softly.</p><p>"The fuck is that supposed to be?" Hun asked, waving at the gleaming object. "Doesn't look like our thing at all."</p><p>"That's how brands work," the stranger explained, and Raph stopped breathing. "It'd be all fucked up if we did it another way." <em>No. Nononononono.</em></p><p>"Whatever," Hun said, shrugging. "If it goes wrong we can just carve into 'im."</p><p>"<em>Dad</em>," Casey rasped, staggering to his feet. "Dad, don't--" His father's fist blurred, and Bruiser couldn't keep from wincing from the <em>smack </em>of knuckles on flesh, or the <em>thunk </em>as Casey hit the ground.</p><p>Then Hun was taking the glowing thing in one glowing hand and opening the cage "No," Bruiser hissed, finally dragging his voice out from wherever it had gone to hide. "Get the <em>fuck </em>away from me."</p><p><em>Please, </em>he wanted to beg. He wanted to beg so badly, but begging would get him nowhere. So instead, he hissed, "Touch me, and I'll strangle you with your own fucking <em>guts."</em></p><p>"What's the problem, sweetheart?" Hun asked, drawing closer, closer. "I thought a little spitfire would love this."</p><p>There was heat on his face and Bruiser felt himself screaming obscenities, twisting, yanking on the restraints so hard he thought his bones might snap. His battered body throbbed at the very idea of moving or shouting, but he didn't care because all that mattered was not letting that <em>thing </em>near him, he <em>wouldn't wouldn't wouldn't</em></p><p>Hun kicked him in the stomach and knelt, hand full of light. He looked like a demon, or an angel--something inhuman and unforgiving. His meaty fingers wrapped around Bruiser's right wrist and twisted, triggering a yelp.</p><p><em>"Don't...."</em> Bruiser wheezed. If he let them do this, a part of him would belong to them forever, would be left in this cage forever. He scanned the warehouse behind Hun's head, some crazy childish part of him looking for rescue, but of course no one was coming because his dream was just a <em>dream.</em> There were no gardens, no maters, no family, nothing but fire and iron.</p><p>"Wait," Casey gasped out, and then the metal was touching Brusier's skin.</p><p>It didn't hurt. That was the worst thing. He screamed anyway, of course, because they were <em>marking him, </em>claiming him as their property, and he'd never be able to forget that. He screamed and screamed, and the scent of his own burnt flesh still filled his nose no matter how loud he tried.</p><p>"Aw, don't be a little bitch, it's already over," Hun said, sitting back on his heels and handing the brand out of the cage. "Huh. Looks pretty good. I think--"</p><p>Bruiser leaned forward and sunk his teeth into Hun's chin.</p><p>The sweet taste of blood in his mouth was worth all the pain that followed.</p><p> </p><p>"Bruiser....?</p><p><em>That's not my name, </em>he wanted to scream. But there were hands on him, <em>touching </em>him, and instead found himself drawing back with a shameful whimper.</p><p>"Whoa, whoa, it's okay. It's me, Casey....I'm just gettin' you loose, okay?" His eyes cracked open as the chains rattled loose around him, gathered up in the hands of a bruised, tired-looking boy kneeling at his side.</p><p>Bruiser twisted away with a choked-back whimper, wincing as the arm Hun had grabbed brushed against the filthy floor. He didn't want to look, he didn't want to look, he...</p><p>He looked. He had to.</p><p>For a moment they both stared at the mark on his arm. It was a little blurry, a little rough, but still unmistakably, a dragon. A dragon that held him in its violet-tinged grip. There would be no burning it off if he ever managed to get away from here, no <em>anything.</em> He was Hun's property for life.</p><p>He threw up, phlegm dribbling down his plastron and soaking into the sawdust.</p><p>"Hey...." Casey said, patting at his carapace uselessly. Tears glittered on his battered face (<em>his </em>marks would fade, at least).</p><p>"Don't fucking <em>touch </em>me," Bruiser hissed, shoving him away. The boy went tumbling across the cage with a clatter, and Bruiser felt a spark of guilt--followed by a much larger flash of fear, because <em>what if someone heard that noise? </em>He couldn't deal with any more Purple Dragons--not now, and maybe not ever.</p><p>But when he looked around the warehouse was dim and empty, with only a few Dragons hanging out near the other side and no sign of Hun (he hated the relief he felt at that). He'd been out for longer than he expected.</p><p>
  <em>He wished he'd never woken up.</em>
</p><p>"Bruiser--Bruiser, stop!"</p><p>"Wha?" He glanced down and frowned at the sight of green fingers scratching at the brand, at the <em>label</em> on his skin. It hurt, and the possibility of it hurting more made him scratch harder.</p><p>"Bruiser, you're gonna hurt yourself, dude."</p><p>"Don't call me that." Was he imagining the flash of hurt on Casey's face? <em>Who gives a fuck? </em><strike>He thought he might.</strike></p><p>"I," Casey drew a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm <em>so</em> sorry. But if you keep up with that you might make it worse...you might make the <em>mark </em>worse."</p><p>The idea of making it <em>worse </em>is laughable, but Bruiser finds himself letting up anyway. And that's when he realized how badly his hands are shaking, how badly <em>everything</em> was shaking.</p><p>Then tears were welling up in his throat and he clamped his hand over his mouth, choking it back down. He couldn't be <em>weak, </em>not here, now now, not....</p><p>He was taken unaware when the first sob forced its way up out of his throat, lurching forward in a desperate attempt to hide it. Then another, and another, no matter how hard he tried to force them back down, to keep his shame locked away in his belly.</p><p>"Okay," Casey said, shifting just a little closer to him, tense and ready to scramble out of rage if Bruiser lashed out again. "You can cry, if you want to. It's okay."</p><p>It wasn't, and he knew it wasn't, but he cried anyway, trying his best to keep quiet and knowing he was failing miserably. He felt Casey moving closer and wasn't nearly as scared as he should have been; a childish part of him was pathetically grateful that <em>anyone </em>would want to be near him in this state.</p><p>He tumbled over at some point, unable to hold himself up under the weight of the sobs, and than Casey's arms were around him. There was a brief bit of panic, but he found himself relaxing anyway; let Casey do what he must, <em>anything </em>was better than being left alone with his tears and his humiliation.</p><p>"I'm going to kill them," he whispered. Casey didn't say anything; maybe he didn't hear, maybe he just didn't believe Bruiser. Why should he? Bruiser must look pretty fucking pathetic right now, too fucked up to kill anyone.</p><p>So he sat, and cried, until eventually his lungs were rasping and dry. His face was sticky with tears...but he didn't feel quite so much like he wanted to die anymore.</p><p>"Gerroff," he muttered, shoving Casey away. The other boy sat up with a complaint and moved to the other side of the cage.</p><p>For a moment they sat there, gazing at each other in silence. "Let me go," Bruiser said quietly.</p><p>"I can't," Casey replied, looking at his feet. Bruiser wasn't sure he'd say anything different in that boy's position, if he'd spent his <em>whole life</em> being crushed under Hun's heel, but he still hated him anyway.</p><p>"Then get<em> out,"</em> he spat, terrified that Casey wouldn't listen and just as terrified as he would. "You fuckers have done enough."</p><p>Casey didn't argue, didn't protest, just got to his feet and slipped out of the cage. Bruiser watched him go, couldn't take his eyes off him until he'd vanished into the shadows. He thought Casey might have let out a soft sob as he vanished, but that was probably just his imagination, too. Like the garden. Like the women--the one in the robe and the one like blood in snow.</p><p>He was alone, as he would always be. And he was <em>fine </em>with that, he told himself. He'd fight their fights, he'd get better and stronger, he'd win until Hun was rolling in money and certain everything was under control--and then he'd strike. He'd burn this place to the ground and carve that fucking mark out of his skin.</p><p>He <em>would. </em>And the fact that his right hand was still shaking didn't mean jack shit.</p>
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